Icarus and the Sun
by sickphilosophy
Summary: In which... well. In which all you need to know is Robin makes a string of mistakes that can't be undone. And he's trying, but it's not enough. (Or: Dick Grayson is a pretty boy with pretty words. But it's all dull and distant when it comes to a sun like Starfire)


**A/N:** Written for nature-lover2003's "Happy Birthday, Teen Titans!" 16th anniversary celebration. The prompt I used was an original one: _Icarus and the Sun_

Disclaimer: Because we're being nostalgic here: I do not own Teen Titans

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In a sincere, darling voice that is very much Starfire: "I am sorry."

Robin gnashes his teeth and runs his hand through his hair in utter frustration, feeling the ugly silence of the room on his skin like hot desert air. He's thinking about the time when he was 13 years old in a world where she had not yet crashed into Earth, when he tapped his pen against a desk in complete boredom as his teacher asked the class to open their books to the chapter about Icarus and his bout with the sun. Now, Robin is wondering if this is his story too. Because-screen of prose-y metaphors aside-Starfire _is_ a celestial body. And Robin feels like he's plummeting from the sky.

If you knew what was going to happen, if you knew _everything_ that was going to happen next with the consequences of your own actions laid out in front of you like the Sparknotes of your life, would you tread forward anyway? Would you make the same decisions? Did Icarus regret kissing the sun when it was all over? Did Robin regret kissing his? Because _really_. _Tokyo_ and _city rainfall_ and _kissing her_ and _inky imaginary enemies_ and _kissing her_ and _awestruck onlookers gossiping in a foreign tongue_ and_ kissing her, kissing her, kissing her_...

The answer is painfully easy: of course Robin doesn't regret it, because it's Starfire. It's always been-has only ever been-Starfire, and he'd been thinking about doing it long before actually doing it. But when Starfire looks at him with green pools of anguish and a deep downward set to her mouth and says very quietly, _It is over_, Robin is thinking that it's the love between them that lends to the pain.

It's a surreal moment. Only an hour ago were they sitting on the couch with her head shamelessly on his shoulder, until Beast Boy ripped into their space with a game that _just had to be played, dude._ An hour before that, Robin was teaching her the alphabet in sign language, taking every opportunity to envelope his hands over hers with the thinly veiled excuse of_ no, like this, Starfire,_ and fought back every furious blush each time she'd riddle little kisses into his fingertips and knuckles and wrists (because Starfire is not the type to hide behind thinly veiled excuses). An hour before that, they were making lunch together and she pulled a crumb out of his hair and he silently vowed to protect her with everything he had. An hour before that, she sat at the edges of the roof, blindingly beautiful, tucking a finger into the ends of his mask and asked if he could finally give her a name, and he did.

But a good day can crumble twice as fast as it's built. "So none of that mattered?" His voice is sharp.

"They are what matter the most. They are just not enough."

She's calm. Disturbingly, disastrously, nightmarishly calm. She's looking down on him like a stone deity. Passionless and calculating.

Someone famous once said that war is what happens when language fails, and here he is now, tripping over words he can't say, and his muscles are aching to punch something hard and unforgiving and he knows Raven can feel all of this because he's slamming his emotions every which way against the walls of the Common Room, but he can't be bothered to care anymore because _Starfire, Starfire, Starfire._

_Starfire_. Starfire with the laugh that bubbles like a cauldron over a campfire and Starfire in the morning, with a sheepish smile after waking up to scorches on his bed frame and edges of the sheets burnt black and red handprints plastered on his chest and shoulders and hips that will blister and peel in a way that doesn't even matter to him. Starfire in the sunlight and Starfire grabbing for his cape during _Phantom House: Night of Peril 3_ and Starfire sneaking off with him to Hal's Diner at 3am to share a milkshake and makeout session under a lamp post with hands all over him, impossibly warm. And I love you, Starfire. Have I ever told you I love you?

"It is too late ," she says, tiredly now.

Robin closes his eyes, feeling the end draw near, dread sweeping over his ankles like a growing tide, cold like nothing else. He knows what comes next, and especially what comes after. He'll lie in his room with the curtains drawn, licking his wounds, feeling the nothingness wash over him like a sluggish wave. He'll miserably file reports with his melted wax wings before dragging himself to the gym to practice katas he can do in his sleep. And Starfire will be Starfire, bright and beautiful and victorious like the sun without him. Whatever happens is his own fault. He has done something wrong, something so huge he can't even see it, something drowning him.

"Was there ever a chance?" He asks, surrendering.

"No, Robin," she murmurs. "You know this."

She places the card down as bile rises in his throat: _Draw 4._

Raven claps a hand to her mouth, making a peculiar sound of a gasp and a restrained laugh mixed together. Beast Boy has his hands in his hair, muttering, _she did not just do that, she did NOT just do that, over and over again._ And Cyborg, well. Cyborg is just shaking his head, a ghost of a smile growing on his face. "Damn, Rob. Ya girl is merciless . "

Robin scowls and reaches for the UNO deck, feeling like a complete idiot.

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**A/N:** I'm sure this has been done before. Like the fanfic/comicstrip equivalent of rick rolling.


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